Death Isn't Sleeping
by ChasingRaggedy
Summary: Chris, Natalie and Ms. Simmons are Freddy's lastest targets. Their battles with him continue to get harder & so does their battle to prove that what they are experiencing is real and desperate help is needed for them to survive one night after the other
1. First Encounters

Sleep is a Death Warrant.

Chris awoke in an instant, beads of sweat on her forehead. She hated nightmares, I mean, who wouldn't? But Chris were so frightened by them, that she'd isolate herself in her room for a couple of days, refusing to eat. This had only started recently, about three weeks ago, when she first encountered Freddy.

"_Chriss…" Freddy called._

_Chris spun around, but she couldn't see him._

_She was in a dark alleyway, with one street light at one end that barely illuminated the narrow alleyway._

_Screeeech…_

_Chris had started to panic ages ago, and now, her entire was over-come with fear._

_Screeech…_

_She instantly spun around, and saw a person walking in the middle of the alleyway, towards her. He was wearing a dirty and tattered red and green sweater, a faded brown fedora hat and a leather glove with four steel blades, one on each finger. As he got closer, she got a look at his face. His face she'll never forget. It was horribly burned._

"_What's wrong?" he asked. "Don't you want to give me a hug?"_

_Chris stood rooted to the ground, unable to move. He continued to advance forward._

_He laughed wickedly. _

_His arms began to extend, and has he walked, scratched the brick walls of the alleyway, making that horrible screeching sound._

_Screeecchh…_

_He was less than ten feet away, and Chris still was unable to move. He unexpectedly charged at her and this time, Chris was able to move her legs and run frantically. She got to the end of the alleyway, she spotted a door, and without thinking, she charged through it, the last thing she heard was Freddy's evil laugh._

_Chris was breathing hard, but over the sounds of her breathe, she heard some rustling noises. She also noticed a breeze that put a chill in her bones. She slowly turned and saw that she was standing in a enormous factory, with a hundred or so desks, each with its own typewriter and lamp. Everything in sight was covered in cobwebs, so it most have been abandoned for an extended period of time. _

_Chris walked cautiously up one of the isles, glancing at each desk she went past. Each typewriter still had paper in it, as if the people typing just got up and left._

_When Chris got to about the middle of the cavernous factory, she spotted a faded newspaper and picked it up. It read: _Springwood Slasher is "Innocent". _Dated _17th of February, 1981.

_Before Chris could read more of the article, she heard the sound of a hundred or so typewriters, typing in unison. No-one was in evidence (except for Chris). She walked over to the next typewriter, and the piece of paper read:_

_One, Two Freddy's coming for you,_

_Three, Four, Better lock your door._

_Five, Six grab your crucifix_

_Se…_

"_Chrriiissss," came a voice from the loudspeaker. _

_Chris looked around and spotted a light coming from a window high up on the eastern wall._

_Sccreecchh…_

_Chris began to panic, and was about to run ahead to go though the door at the end of the factory, when it began to creak open by itself. _

_In a trance-like state, she began walking to it, as if drawn to it. _

_Closer and closer she got to the door, louder and louder became the "screeches"._

_SCCRREECCHH…_

_Chris stopped in front of the door and slowly bent forward to see what lay beyond. It was nothing much. A few broken chairs and typewriters. However, she did spot a set of stairs descending to another level below. Chris cautiously descended down the stairs, and as she did so, she noticed she began to feel hotter. She could hear the "cackle" of fire, but she could also hear a child crying. Chris got three quarters down the stairs and noticed that she was in a boiler room. In the far corner, she saw the girl whom she heard earlier and she also saw the man who chased her in the alleyway slashing the young girl's face with his glove. _

"_Stop it!" Chris cried, but there was nothing much she could do for the young girl, who remained limp in the man's arms._

_The man glared at the intruder, and then grinned while tapping his knives together. What he did next was totally unexpected. He vanished into thin air! Chris didn't wait for an invitation, and bolted to see if the young girl was alright. She wasn't alright. She was dead. Chris got up slowly, and heard the distinguished sound of knives screeching against metal. She spun around, only to come face to face with the killer. His face alone sent her falling backwards and stumbling over the dead girl's body, felling the "squelch" of blood in her socks. Now Chris was cornered, with the assassin towering over her._

"_Who are you?" managed to escape her mouth._

_He just chuckled. "I' am the very root of fear." And then laughed, loudly, his snicker echoing off the concrete walls of the room. _

_He raised his leather glove to strike, and Chris screamed and covered her face, preparing for the worst. But it never came._

Chris happened to wake up in her purple queen-sized bed, covered in cold sweat. This was, by far, the worst nightmare she'd ever had.

After some breakfast, Chris began to come to terms with her nightmare. As she got undressed for a shower, she noticed her socks were soaked with blood. Now, this was something she couldn't explain. During the morning, in order for herself not to have constant panic attacks, Chris had to remind herself that the nightmare was a one off thing, and wouldn't happen again.

Boy, was she dead wrong.

Hello people. I'd like to thankyou for reading my FIRST EVER fanfiction. Because it is my first, I realize that there would be some glitches, so if you could R&R and tell me what you think and where I could improve, I'd appreciate it. Thanks!


	2. Who is he?

Chris needed to relax. That nightmare and disturbed her something chronic, and she knew just the thing that would it from her mind.

"_SLUMBER PARTY!_," Natalie squealed on the other end of the line. "_Oh, it's going to be so fun. We'll have popcorn and lollies and heaps of red cordial, of and of course, I'll be bringing the movies_. _Oh, I have the perfect one! I just bought it the other day! It's going to scare you into the next century!"_

"You're not bringing a horror movie, are you?" Chris inquired.

"_Well, duh. C'mon, it was made in 1984 or something like that._"

"And?"

"_And, you _know _the special effects are going to be cheesy. Not to mention the acting_," Natalie explained.

"THEN WHY SAY IT'S GOING TO SCARE ME INTO NEXT CENTURY?"

Natalie sighed. _"Have you seen this movie?"_

Chris didn't reply. Natalie knew that Chris hated horror movies, and only on a rare occasion did she watch them.

"_Have you seen this movie!_" Natalie repeated.

"No," Chris said with a roll of her eyes. Natalie always uses the "you haven't seen the movie" act all the time, and it was starting to get on Chris' nerves.

"_Exactly, so you don't know whether you'll like it or not," _Natalie said. "_So, I'll bring the movies and some lollies. Anything else?_"

"Nah, it should be all good. Cheers," replied Chris and hung up before she could hear Natalie's goodbye.

_Grrr…_Chris thought. _It's bad enough that I'm scared to sleep. Now, Natalie is bringing over _HORROR MOVIES!

_Can't wait to see how tonight unfolds_, she thought.

----------------------------

_Ding dong_ went the doorbell.

Chris raced down the wooden stairs and opened the front door.

"_HI!_" Natalie yelled, with at least three duffle bags full of God knows what behind her.

Chris raised an eyebrow.

"Er..Hi, Natalie, come on in," Chris gestured for her to come inside. "How much clothes do you want? It's only one night."

There was a small _thud _as the three duffle bags hit the marble floor. "Well," she laughed, "life is _full _of unexpected surprises."

"Uh-huh. Did you bring everything? The lollies? Pillows? Sleeping bags?"

"I sure did. _And_, in case you were wondering, I remembered to bring the DVD too," Natalie replied.

_Damn, _Chris though.

"Well, come on upstairs," Chris said, grabbing the three (HEAVY) duffle bags and slinging them over her shoulder. Their footsteps on the wooden stairs echoed throughout the empty household. Up they trudged, the duffle bags bearing down on Chris' broad shoulders, with Natalie following behind, paying each passing painting and photograph a compliment.

Chris arrived in at her bedroom door and with no hesitation, opened it and dropped the bags onto her cream-coloured carpet.

"Wow," Natalie gasped as she appeared in the doorway. "You room is…_amazing._"

"It's not much, but--"

Natalie cut in. "_NOT MUCH? _Your room is like a something you'd find at the _Hilton_."

And she was right. Chris's room was painted a light peach colour, with some framed photos of her and her friends. Her bed was located beneath a large window, with light blue curtains. To the left of her bed, was a _huge _walk-in wardrobe, filled with heaps of designer clothing. Not to mention the computer with wireless broadband, flat-screen T.V. and the XBOX 360 _and _the veranda that was connected to her bedroom that lead downstairs to the pool.

"Well, reckon we could watch this DVD of yours now?" Chris' requested.

Natalie's eyes nearly popped out. "No _way! _You _have _to watch it at night. It has a much better effect on you."

"But, that's what I _don't _want to happen. You know how much I hate horror movies," Chris protested.

"Well, you need to face your fears some day. C'mon, if worst comes to worst, we'll turn it off and, I dunno, play _Twister _all night, or something like that."

Chris felt _slightly _comforted. "Well, okay. I guess you're right. I' am overreacting."

Natalie smiled. "Well, who wants to go for a swim?"

-----------------------------

By the time Chris and Natalie got out of the pool, it was already 6:30pm and their fingers were _way _beyond the state of being "pruny".

"Alrighty, t' is time," Natalie announced, searching through her bag.

"I'm going to make the popcorn, okay. Just come down when you're ready," Chris said, leaving the room.

Natalie heard her footsteps on the stairs. _God damn it_, she thought. _Where did I put that fucking DVD!_

"Ah-ha!" she yelled triumphantly, and raced downstairs, grabbing some pillows on the way out.

As she came closer to the kitchen, she could here the _pop pop _of the popcorn. And, it smelt good.

"Mm," she said, "that smells delicious. I haven't had popcorn in ages!"

"Natalie!" Chris said. "You had a whole bucket of popcorn when we went to the movies last week."

"Well, I'm talking about microwave popcorn."

Chris pressed stop on the microwave, and searched through her cupboards for a bowl. When she found one, she took the popcorn, opened it and added some salt. She shook it up and placed it in the bowl and went into the lounge room.

"So, what's this movie about?"

"Well," Natalie said, putting the DVD into the DVD player and pressing "play". "It's about this child-murderer, Freddy Krueger his name is. It's set in the 1980's or something like that and he has the ability to enter people's dreams and kill them while they're sleeping. That's a basic explanation," she explained, grabbing some popcorn and joined Chris on the coach and turning the T.V. on.

"…_One, two Freddy's coming for you_

_Three, four, better lock your door_

_Five, six grab your crucifix_

_Seven, eight, better stay up late_

_Nine, ten never sleep again."_

_That poem_, Chris thought. _I know it! It's from my dream!_

"Natalie, did I tell you about a dream I had last night?"

"Um, don't think so. Why?"

Chris' heart was pounding. "Because I've heard this poem before."

"Well, duh! Thousands of people know this poem!"

"Natalie, you know that I haven't seen this film before," Chris said, casting a glance at the T.V.

"You probably read it on the net. People publish it every-where."

Chris watched the T.V. At the moment, she was watching some blonde chick running around in a room that resembled a boiler room. And in the background you could hear some heavy breathing and…

_Sccrreecchh…_

Chris nearly jumped out of her seat. Instead, she just knocked the bowl of popcorn that was sitting on her lap and all fell to the floor.

"Jesus, Chris, what's gotten into you!"

"Fast forward and show me the killer," Chris demanded and Natalie, a little taken aback by Chris' tone of voice, obliged. When Natalie found a scene with the killer in it, she pressed "stop" and let it play.

"_Tina?_"

This time, getting a good look at the too-familiar killer, Chris did jump out of her seat.

"What is going on!" Natalie asked.

"I've seen him before! He was in my dream last night!" Chris shrieked.

"Oh, come on. You're going to have to do better then that to try and scare me," Natalie said.

"Look, I'm being dead serious! He was in my dream and he was after me!"

Natalie remained unimpressed.

"Please, you have to believe me. He _was _in my dream last night," Chris pleaded.

Natalie yawned. "So, what do you want me to do about it?"

To be honest, Chris didn't know what Natalie should do. All she wanted her to do was to believe that Freddy really was in her dream.

"Look," Natalie said, "It seems to me, that because of this dream, you didn't get a lot of sleep and you've gone…crazy."

Chris turned her head in astonishment.

"Ok, not crazy, but it's making you say and see things, perhaps. I suggest we go to bed now, and you'll feel better in the morning. Okay?" Natalie explicated.

Chris sighed. "Fine," she said, as she bent down and picked up handfuls of spilt popcorn, Natalie soon following her example.

Eventually, when most of the popcorn was off the carpet, the pair of them silently plodded up the stairs and got dressed to go to bed.

T' was Natalie that broke the silence. "Look, I'm sorry if you got offended when I said that you were acting crazy. That's not what I meant."

"I know what you meant. But, I just think that you don't believe me. I swear, as God as my witness, that he was in my dream," Chris replied, getting into her bed.

"He's a fictional character, Chris. He can't hurt you."

"That's something I don't agree with," she replied, turning off her lamp and her room was plunged into darkness.


	3. Let loose the dogs of war

Hey people, thankyou very much for reading. I'd appreciate it if you could R&R, because this is my first fanfiction novel-type-thing and I'd welcome some suggestions and feedback

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Freddy or any aspects mentioned in my novel that is from the NOES series. I do, however, own my characters (Chris, Natalie) and please don't use them in your own stories.

Tossing and turning throughout the night, Chris didn't get much sleep. She was surprised that Natalie hadn't awoken due to the constant "creak" that her bed made. In a state of being half awake and half asleep, Chris began to hallucinate and sent her gasping back to consciousness.

"Coffee," she muttered, rubbing her eyes. "I need coffee."

She quietly tip-toed out of her room, weaving her way through the piles of clothing that belonged to Natalie. As she quickly marched down the corridor, she could hear the wind outside, and let me tell you, it was _blowing a gail _This only made Chris walk faster into the kitchen, for all she wanted right now is a simple cup of coffee, and the sanctity of her bedroom. Chris tapped her foot impatiently as she waited for the water to boil, so she decided to cut up an apple. She wasn't particularly hungry, put it was the only thing to stop her from falling asleep right there and then.

_Ping_, went the kettle, and Chris made her cup of instant coffee, one long-over-due. Within her first sip, she felt much more stirring. Chris yawned.

_Oh dear_, she thought. _That's not what I want_.

Chris took a big gulp of coffee, which accidently burnt her tongue. Instinctively, she spat it all out all over shirt and drank some water from the tap.

"Wonderful," she grumbled, as she took in the coffee stains on her white pyjama shirt.

With her half-empty cup of coffee, she walked back upstairs and jumped into her bed. She decided to listen to some music, as she couldn't turn on a light to read or turn on her T.V, as it would wake Natalie. Putting one earphone into each ear, Chris scrolled though the songs on her MP3 player, and hit "play" on her favourite song, _With or Without You _by _U2_.

Now, it could've been that she was tired, or the cool, sexy voice of Bono ringing in her ears, whatever the reasons, for _some _reason, the coffee was now having no effect on Chris, and she found herself feeling drowsy. She began to sing in an attempt to keep awake.

"With or without you, with or without you…"

Now, it could've been that she was hearing things, but Chris could've sworn that she heard a quiet but distinct _sccrreecchh _in the background. After approximately one minute of listening intently to the song, she came to the conclusion that she was hearing things.

"…I can't live," she quietly sang, "with or without you…"

"_Sccrreecchh_," came the sound again, except this time, louder. And then…

"…_One, two Freddy's coming for you,_

_Three, four, better lock your door,_

_Five, six grab your crucifix,_

_Seven, eight, gonna stay up late,_

_Nine, ten never sleep again…"_

In a state of bewilderment and disbelief, Chris threw her MP3 player to the floor with all her might, missing Natalie's head by inches.

_You are _so _dreaming_, she thought.

The wind outside interrupted her thoughts. Chris crept out of her warm bed, and looked outside through her window. There were leaves and branches all over the street, and the trees were swaying to and fro with the wind.

_What a beautiful night to go for a walk._

A rock hit her window, and she jumped backwards.

_What the…?_

She searched to find the culprit, but found no-one in evidence.

Chris frowned. There had to be some-one! It isn't _that _windy.

_Another _rock hit the window. Followed by another, and another! As each rock hit her window, it created a series of cracks and spider-webs until, eventually, there was not a section of glass unaffected.

"Oh…my god," she whispered.

_Just one more rock and…_

She thought too soon.

The rock went sailing through the glass. Shattered glass went flying everywhere, and Chris brought up her arms to shield her face. The temperature must have dropped 10 degrees in only seconds, and boy, it was _bloody _cold

Chris was struggling to remain standing because of the wind. Eventually, the wind became to hard, and she was lifted right off her feet and blown to the wall, while Natalie remained sound asleep.

_How could she still be asleep?_

Her thoughts were diverted to a more dangerous threat; Freddy ascending from the ground and landing safely in her room, whilst Chris remained pinned to the wall, unable to move.

Her eyes widened with horror. Was this the end for her?

Freddy grinned, revealing a brown set of teeth which made Chris' stomach churn.

Then, he abruptly stopped and lowered his steel claw.

"This almost seems too easy," he muttered, thinking to himself. "I'd get no satisfaction by killing you this way…"

He suddenly brought up his hands, and the wind died down, until there was no breeze at all, and Chris was free to move.

"Much better," he said, and he charged at her.

Chris screamed and literally trampled over Natalie in order to escape from Freddy's claw. She frantically ran down the corridor, not daring to look back. She could hear the chuckles of Freddy closing in behind her. When she came to the stairs, she slid down the banister and fell off ¾ of the way down. She immediately got back up, only to be crash-tackled to the ground from behind. Chris flipped over onto her back, and struggled to keep Freddy's claw away from her face. He brought his other hand down onto her neck and started to choke her. Freddy's claw was coming ever-so close to her face, and Chris searched for a way out

She couldn't find anything within reach that could help her out of this one. Chris could see the struggle and the desperation in Freddy's evil eyes. Not to mention his steel claw coming closer to her face.

Ever so suddenly, Freddy let out a roar of pain, as he got hit around the head from behind.

"Natalie!"

"You little bitch," Freddy roared and went to go and tackle Natalie, but stopped as she brought Chris' baseball bat up, ready to swing.

"Don't you dare take another step forward, you ugly _fuck_," she called.

He chuckled. They walked around in a circle, Chris standing behind Natalie. He launched. He sliced the wooden bat in half, which left Natalie defenseless, and cut her arm with his claw.

"Ahh!"

Freddy went to strike again, but Chris prevented him to do so, hitting him with the remnants of the wooden baseball bat.

"Get us out of here Chris!" Natalie yelled.

So, Chris did the only thing her mind was telling her to do right now: run

Natalie and Chris bolted past the stairs and through the corridor and into the garage and locked the door and not a moment to soon.

"How did the people in the movies get rid of Freddy?" Chris asked, putting things in front of the door.

"There were many ways, and look how they turned out! They didn't work!" she yelled, helping Chris. "But, he does fear fire."

Chris stopped for a moment, and the imaginary light bulb above her head lit up.

"Keep moving furniture in front of the door, I'll look for matches," Chris ordered. She could hear the grunts of Freddy trying ever-so desperately to finish what he started, giving her the motivation to search for their salvation from this nightmare.

She found what she though was an empty matchbox, and she was almost correct. She opened it and found but one match. Not only did she find some matches (_one _match), but she also found some fuel, kept by her father for his motorbike.

_This has to count_, she thought.

She unscrewed the cap on the bottle of fuel and poured it all around the garage until the bottle was empty.

"Stop!" she yelled over Freddy's loader grunts from beyond the door. "Change of plans. Help me move this wardrobe near the door," she urgently whispered.

Chris and Natalie dragged the heavy oak wardrobe closer to the door, and Chris said for her to get in it, and partially close the door.

"Wha--" Natalie asked, grasping her bleeding arm, but Chris cut her off.

"Sshh, not a sound," she whispered. "Just get ready to jump and run."

Chris returned to the furniture, except she was moving it _away_ from the door.

"C'mon Freddy, you fucking idiot! Bring it on!" Chris screamed and she ran and hid behind some of the furniture, matches ready.

This _really _provoked Freddy to the point of insanity.

Within three attempts, Freddy burst through the door, searching frantically for Chris and Natalie. There was nothing he wanted more right now then to feel his blades thrust through human flesh.

"I'm going to enjoy splitting you in two," he snarled.

They waited for him to step further into the garage, before Chris lit the match and thrust it onto the trail of fuel, and bolted outside the door, Natalie followed. Freddy turned, and before closing the door, Chris gave him the finger and locked him inside the burning garage.

"Where to now?" asked Natalie.

"We have to wake up!"

"How are we going to do that?" Smoke was starting raise from underneath the garage door and you could hear Freddy's screams.

"I have an idea! No guarantee that it'll work, but it might. Walk and talk," Chris said, as she ran up the stairs. "I set my alarm clock for something like 5:30am to watch the sunrise, and maybe, if we lie down and sleep, maybe we'll get woken up by my alarm."

"What time is it now?"

Chris looked at her watch. It had stopped.

"My watch stopped. Who knows what time it is in the real world," they entered her room, and locked the door.

"Alright, let's try it."

Chris got into her bed, Natalie got into her sleeping bag, and both tried to sleep, but, knowing that you have a psychotic killer downstairs in your burning garage, that isn't the perfect lullaby.

_Bang_, went the door, and Chris and Natalie both jumped.

There was another bang. Freddy had gotten out from the garage!

Chris and Natalie both jumped out of bed, and tried the door to the verandah, put it was locked.

"_Shit_," Chris screamed. She could feel Natalie's body shaking with fear.

There was an almighty bang, and they both turned to see Freddy in flames, standing in the doorway. He charged at them, raised his claw and…

… "_It's currently 5:30am and it's beautiful day…_" went Chris' alarm.

Chris was covered in cold sweat, and panting. Natalie's arm was gushing blood. They've never been happier to be alive!

Chris sniffed the air. _The fire!_

"The fire! Move!" Chris and Natalie scampered out the door, and down the stairs. The fire had intensified and had now engulfed the study downstairs.

Coughing and splattering, Chris and Natalie emerged out the front door of the house, and run down the street to the neighbours.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Freddy felt like an idiot. He had been out-smarted by two sixteen year olds. How embarrassing.

He sharpened his blades, small sparks shooting out every-where.

"You may have won the battle," Freddy chuckled, "but you haven't won the war."

I know, I feel pretty silly for ending it with such an over-used cliché, but, it's the best one I could think of at 12:32am. I hope you enjoyed the new chapter. Please review and tell me what you think.


	4. Preliminary Doubts

Hello there readers. Thankyou very much for taking time to read my story, I appreciate it. I'd like for you to R&R and tell me if you like it or not, where I can improve etc. Thanks!

**Disclaimer: **I do not own any aspect mentioned in my story that comes from the NOES series (Freddy Kreuger for instance), but I do own my own characters (Chris, Natalie, Ms. Simmons) and PLEASE DO NOT USE THEM IN YOUR OWN STORIES!

Chris frantically hammered on Ms. Simmons screen door, who lived only up the street. With dawn approaching, Chris and Natalie were thankful that they had survived their battle with Freddy. They could smell the scent of burning building, that building being Chris' house. She dare not think what he parents would say to her. Sure, they had insurance, but there were certain items in her house that could never be replaced.

After about ten minutes of rap-tap-tapping on Ms. Simmons door, her youthful face appeared. At 24 years of age, Rebecca Simmons was considered rather young to be a P.E teacher. Rebecca was of average height 5'7, had shoulder length auburn hair, green eyes, a pudgy nose and the best pair of legs any teacher at Mary, Help of Christians Private school could ask for.

The instant she saw Chris and Natalie standing outside her house at approximately 5:35am, with the scent of fire in the air, it appeared that she was about to close the door and trudge back up to her room, thinking it were all a dream.

"Chris! Natalie! Wha…wha…what are you doing at my house?" Ms. Simmons inquired apprehensively.

"Ms. Simmons, I apologise for waking you at such an early hour, but, we desperately need your help," Natalie replied, even though she thought the question was directed to Chris.

Ms. Simmons stood there for a good 5 seconds before she was able to respond.

"Please, come in. You two look…terrible. What happened?"

As Ms. Simmons scurried through her cupboards to find some bandages for Natalie's endlessly bleeding arm, Chris told her the story of Freddy and their past exploits. Ms. Simmons silently took all this in, not a word of protest or confusion came out of her mouth.

Chris was stopped short by the sound of fast-approaching sirens. It hit her like a brick.

"_THE FIRE! HOLY FUCK, I TOTALLY FORGOT!"_ she squealed as she scampered out of her seat and ran out the door towards her ever-diminishing house, Natalie and Ms. Simmons following suit.

By the time Chris had gotten to her house (what was remaining of it), there were two fire trucks and several bystanders.

She had started to walk towards the chief, but was stopped in her tracks by another firefighter.

"Hold up there, missy. I can't let you near the truck at the moment. Why don't you go on home and get yourself some more sleep," he said.

"What home can I go home to?" Chris asked, indicating to her burning house.

The firefighter looked staggered. "That's your house?"

"Yes!"

"Then, where are your parents?"

"They're currently on holidays in California."

The chief called from the fire truck. "Mason! Hurry up, son. We need you in there!"

"Sir," he called, "that house belongs to this girl here."

The chief almost dropped his clipboard he had in his hand. "Come here" was all he said. Not particularly sure who he was addressing, Chris walked to meet the chief.

"Talk to me, what's the story?" he asked, the hostility in his voice enough to make you shiver.

_Shit, what am I going to tell him? Can't necessarily tell him that a homicidal maniac out of my dreams was the reason why I set my dream house on fire, _she thought.

"My friend," she indicated to Natalie, "and I were…smoking downstairs at, honestly, I'm not sure of what the time was, and…one of the cigarettes mustn't have been put out properly…and…caught fire," Chris explained. The chief wrote this story on his clipboard.

"A likely story," he muttered. He took a quick glance in Natalie's direction and then to the fire, then continued writing. "What happened to your friend?"

Chris turned her back to the chief, and then turned back. "I was careless with the kitchen knife."

"You seem to be very careless tonight. Is this common-- carelessness?"

A sudden cry from one of the fire fighters trying to control the burning flames, and the chief ran back towards the fire truck before Chris could answer. Mason soon left Chris standing by herself, observing the efforts made by the fire fighters to put out these flames. She noticed her neighbour, Mr. Nickerson, standing out on the street, holding some photos.

_Probably evacuated…_

Ms. Simmons and Natalie joined her.

"Christ…" Ms. Simmons whispered, bringing her hand over her mouth. "This is what "Freddy" did?"

"Well, technically, this is what we did to kill him. And, come to think about, it was pretty stupid…" Natalie trailed off.

"Well, it was either the house or our lives," Chris added, maintaining eye-contact with her burning house.

There was a minute of silence. Felt like several minutes to Chris. To her, it felt like everything was hushed, though it wasn't. She could hear the cackle of fire, the shouts of fire fighters, sirens, water spouting out of a hose with tremendous speed. No, it wasn't silent at all, but when she heard the _crack _and _rumble _coming from her house, she wished it was.

Right before her eyes, her house collapsed. Within a blink of an eye, her previous home became a mound of rubble and charcoal.

_Oh the memories, _she thought. _What joyous occasions that happened in that house…_

She felt a soft hand on her shoulder, and was lead back towards Ms. Simmons' house. Not a word was spoken until all three of them were sitting down in the living room, the _howl _of sirens in the distance.

"Okay girls, level with me. What really caused the fire?" Ms. Simmons asked, looking from Natalie and then to Chris.

Chris exchanged a look with Natalie. "What do you mean? I told you what happened."

"Do you really expect me to believe that?" Ms. Simmons replied. "Were you taking any drugs last night?"

Natalie snuffed a laugh, but Chris' facial expression remained the same. "Of course not! You know I'd never do anything like that!"

"Then please explain to me how you were able to burn down your house!"

"Oh my _God_, did you not pay attention to anything I said earlier. I did it so that Natalie and I could live to see another day. I couldn't think of anything else to do! It's not like I had time to sit down and think about what I should do," Chris responded.

Natalie could feel the anger building inside of Chris. "Chris, just calm down and lower your voice."

Chris took in a deep breath and it seemed like the fire wasn't going to come out of her ears after all. "What else am I supposed to say?"

"Well, what about sleep-walking. Perhaps one of you had managed to light a match and dropped it?"

"What are the chances of that happening?" Natalie asked from the couch.

"Look, I'm just trying to figure this out, so if you guys would level with me then perhaps I wouldn't be so…confused," Ms. Simmons answered.

"I don't know how straight forward I can get? I told you what happened; Freddy Krueger came to kill us, okay? _Kill _us!"

"Okay, this is where it becomes puzzling. Freddy Krueger is a _fictional _character who was part of a movie called "A Nightmare on Elm Street". I have it on DVD."

"We know he was a character in that movie. We thought, no, we _knew _that he was fictional. How he managed to become a reality is…unknown," Natalie said.

"Okay, have you been taking some kind of…medication?" Ms. Simmons inquired.

"No."

"Okay," Ms. Simmons said, sighing, I guess you could say, in frustration, "I still believe that some-where during this morning, you sleep-walked down into the garage and just happen to subconsciously pick up a box of matches and lit your house on fire. That is the only reasonable explanation I can think of at the moment."

"In all likelihood of that to happen, there just happens to be a fact that my garage is so messy that you can get lost in it," Chris said seriously, though Natalie couldn't help but smile.

Ms. Simmons let out a sigh, but didn't speak immediately. She was more thinking about what to say next.

"I just don't know how to handle this," she admitted.

"Don't handle it; just accept it."

Ms. Simmons and Chris stared at each other, not blinking. Natalie felt a little awkward as she observed their staring competition from the couch.

"Ah, I hate to be a buzz kill, but could I get something to eat," she asked, trying her best to sound pleasant, "I'm _starving_."

Ms. Simmons smirked. "Sure," she said, leaving her arm chair and walking into the kitchen to prepare some breakfast.

After a wonderful meal to start the day (consisting of pancakes, toast and eggs), Chris accompanied by Natalie and Ms. Simmons walked down the street to see the remains of her house. Chris had to be persuaded to go, of course, as she didn't want to see the reaction on the chief's face when she told him the _real _story.

"Okay, what's the plan again?" Chris asked the red fire truck in plain sight.

"You are to tell the chief that you knocked over some candles when you were sleep-walking. If he asks why you didn't blow the candles out, just say you fell asleep and forgot to. And remember, try to act casual. And we'll be behind you the whole way," Ms. Simmons said firmly.

As Chris continued to walk, she noticed that there were barely any flames, but the firefighters continued to spray water to put it out. She approached the young firefighter who she'd met earlier, Mason.

"I need to speak with the chief. I figured he might want to hear the whole story in case the police ask or something like that," she said, sounding casual as can be.

Mason looked like he wanted to say a million things at once, but nothing came out. Eventually, he managed to mutter, "Go see him." Although he didn't say much, Chris was able to hear his Irish accent. She wondered why she hadn't heard it before.

"Chief," Ms. Simmons called, "Chris would like to tell you the _real _story about how her house managed to burn down."

The chief stopped writing on his clipboard, folded his arms and waited. Chris took this as her queue to go.

"Okay, Natalie and I _were _smoking downstairs, but that's not what started the fire. Our electricity had been going on and off during the night, so in case of a, like, long-term blackout I set up candles around downstairs, not alight, but just sitting there in case. Anyways, the time did come and so I lit some and I think I fell asleep--" The chief put up his hand to signal "stop" and then pointed at Natalie, "Is that true?" he asked.

Natalie was taken by surprise, "Yes, that's true."

Again, the chief folded his arms and waited.

"Like I said, I fell asleep and I forgot to blow them out. I have a tendency to sleep walk and I accidently knocked over the candles in the lounge room and…the rest is history."

The chief's expression remained fixed, like he was staring her down, which is what Chris thought he was doing.

Unexpectedly he said, "You're story doesn't stick."

"Wha?"

"When we arrived at about 5:42am, the fire hadn't hit the lounge room yet."

"Oh, and you know more about the interior design of my house then I do?"

The chief's thick, gray moustache jiggled. "You have to come down and write down your interpretation of the night, and you too miss," he indicated to Natalie.

"Okay, when?"

"Within the afternoon."

Chris nodded her head and walked away, casting a quick glance at her past house.

"That was close…" Natalie whispered.

"Yeah, but you know how stubborn I can get when something doesn't go my way," Chris laughed. Ms. Simmons remained for the whole return journey back to her house.

And so, the day went by without many disturbances. Chris and Natalie were driven down to the police station were they put in their separate statements while Ms. Simmons went grocery shopping. Natalie was driven home and Chris was due to spend the night with Ms. Simmons.

"Are you sure your parents can't get home earlier then next Tuesday?" Ms. Simmons inquired. "Not that it's any inconvenience having you're here, of course."

"Well, from when I checked this afternoon, they might make it late Monday night, but they'll get here as soon as possible. Oh, and they wish to say thankyou for taking care of me," Chris answered, setting the dinner table. She could smell the strong scent of onion coming from the kitchen.

"How come your parents live so far away from any relatives?" Ms. Simmons called.

"Well," she began, "My mother is actually Australian and as you can imagine, all her relatives live in the land down under. My dad is American, however, when my mother met dad's relatives, for some unknown reason, she was ostracized. So, we moved away to here in an attempt to make my mother happier. And, I guess it worked."

"Oh," came the reply from the kitchen.

"To tell you the truth, I've never met my grandparents."

"Oh my, that must be a little depressing," Ms. Simmons said, coming from the kitchen and carrying two plates filled with spaghetti. She set them down on the table and sat down.

The spaghetti was _delicious_. The best Chris had ever had, and she doesn't spaghetti that often!

So, Ms. Simmons and Chris sat there, eating their dinner, chatting away like two friends. There came the odd silence, but eventually, the topic that Chris dreaded just had to pop up during their chat.

"So, you want to tell me what really happened to your house?"

"Okay. I was tormented during my sleep my a demon named Freddy Krueger. Now, he chased me throughout my house until Natalie came and saved my life. We ran into the garage and began to barricade ourselves in until Natalie happened to mention that he's scared of fire. So, I told her stop, I put gasoline throughout our garage and dropped a match when Freddy barged through our door and then we locked him in and then we woke a second before he'd spilt us in two," Chris explained.

Rebecca Simmons put her head in her hands. "When will you stop believing in this…delusion?"

"_IT'S NOT A DELUSION!_' Chris shrieked, throwing her knife and fork to the floor, the clatter making Ms. Simmons jump.

Chris then put _her _head in her hands and started to weep. Ms. Simmons left the table for a moment, and then returned carrying a box of tissues with her. She set the down on the table, and Chris swiftly took two.

"If I was lying, I wouldn't keep it a lie for this long. It's because I'm lazy and couldn't be bothered continuing to lie. But, I swear on my father's life that I'm not lying. You need to believe me. I'm not crazy," Chris continued.

"Oh, I don't think you're crazy; you're far from it. I just think that you're confusing reality with fiction,"

"In other words I'm crazy."

Ms. Simmons shook her head and then quickly changed the subject. "Well, if you're finished, you're quite welcome to go to bed. I've found some old pyjamas of mine, so you can wear them."

"Thankyou," Chris muttered.

Both Ms. Simmons and Chris left the table at the same time, each going in opposite directions.

"Hey Chris…"

Chris turned.

"..I don't think you're crazy."

Chris smirked slightly, and then walked into the guest bedroom and closed the door.

-------------------------------

Rebecca Simmons is usually a heavy sleeper, but tonight, she tossed and turned like a cockroach. She barely got half an hour's sleep before she woke up again.

That long awaited _sleep _finally came along. Though, there was no delightful dream tonight, quite the opposite.

Deep, sadistic chuckles echoed throughout the deserted park. Dead leaves were easily blown with the end, Ms. Simmons having to shield her eyes.

What happened next, she never saw coming.

**Oh, what's going to happen next? I know, this was a very useless chapter in my opinion, which is why I thought it best to leave it with a cliffhanger! R&R please!**


	5. No Lullabies Tonight

**Author's Note:** For the people that are continuing to read my story, I'd like to apologize for not updating in a long time. I had a variety of over-due assignments to hand in, but now that they are out of the way, please enjoy my new chapter

**Disclaimer:** Nope, I don't own Freddy, HOWEVER, I do own MY characters (Chris, Natalie, Ms. Simmons), so broaden your mind, young one, and create YOUR OWN character(s).

Chris lay sprawled out on the bed in the guest bedroom, reading _The Wind in the Willows_ she found among a pile of old magazines. Every so often, she'd have to pinch herself from falling asleep, her arm now a pinkish red.

Chris began to feel slightly disturbed about the silence. She had just started reading again when she heard a muffled squeal. Laying the book on the bed, Chris got up and left the guest bedroom to investigate.

_Dear God, may this not be a dream…_

Chris walked along the corridor and heard a similar squeal coming from Ms. Simmons' bedroom. Assuming the worst, Chris rushed to the rescue. She was cut of the rescue when she heard third shriek coming from the small, black T.V in the corner of the room, Ms. Simmons' lay slumbering, undisturbed.

Sighing a breath of relief, Chris grabbed the remote off the bedside table but didn't turn the T.V off. Instead, she stood watching what was on.

From the looks of things, it was a horror movie. A woman dressed in a white singlet shirt and jeans stained with blood ran through what looked to be a high school cafeteria. She slowed down, and picked up a sharp knife. She was turning her head every-which-way looking out for the killer, walking backwards towards a closet. The camera switched to look at the woman walking backwards, only seeing her right shoulder and the back of her head.

A single thin blade lightly tapped her on the shoulder, and she slowly turned. Chris rolled her eyes; this was all too-predictable.

"Kids shouldn't play with knives," came a voice from within the darkness of the closet.

The woman dropped the knife as Freddy Krueger yanked her inside the closet, the door slamming shut. Her shrieks filled the air, sending shivers up Chris' spine. Blood started to leak from underneath the door, and the woman's shrieks ended. There was a moment of silence and the door slowly creaked open.

Freddy emerged from the blood-covered closet and looked directly at the camera.

"You're next," he said, pointing directly at Chris.

The T.V screen was then filled with static.

Chris shot up from the bed, almost doing a somersault off then end it. Breathing hard, she examined her body for any bleeding wounds. There was none. She heard a squeal coming from outside and Chris groaned. She hoped that this wasn't one of those dreams where everything keeps repeating.

Chris confidently towards Ms. Simmons' bedroom, but stopped in her tracks when she noticed that the shrieks weren't coming from the bedroom.

They were coming from the living room.

Chris ran into the living room and saw Ms. Simmons' lying on the couch, her arms flaying everywhere, as if she was trying to bat something away.

"Ms. Simmons?" Chris called, Ms. Simmons' taking no notice of the question.

Chris walked closer and noticed that her eyes were closed.

"Oh _fuck_," Chris yelled, running and kneeling beside Ms. Simmons's face.

"I'm sorry," she whispered quickly, and slapped Ms. Simmons' face without any hesitation.

Having no affect on her, Chris tried shaking her, shouting in her ear, slapping her again, all of which did nothing to help; Ms. Simmons' remained shrieking and batting the air.

Chris bolted into the kitchen and frantically searched the cupboards for a glass. When she found one, she filled it with cold water and ran back to the couch, spilling about a quarter of it, and tossed it on Ms. Simmons. She did not wake up; however, her eyes did flutter.

Chris placed the glass on the kitchen table, and spotted a fairly large jug and this time filled it with hot water. Not boiling, but a few degrees hotter than luke warm.

Before Chris had the chance to cast the water, Ms. Simmons' abruptly stopped her shrieking and batting and arose freakishly slow. Eyes still shut; Rebecca Simmons' turned her head to face Chris.

"Chrisss…," Freddy's voice chuckled, "how are you going to prove your sanity when the two people that have experienced my power," another chuckle, "are six feet under!" He let out a loud, wicked laugh.

"_FUCK YOU!"_ Chris screamed, tossing the water onto Ms. Simmons' face.

Ms. Simmons' awoke instantly, gasping and screaming.

"_WHAT THE FUCK!_" she bellowed at the top of her lungs, and Chris was sure she saw a light turn on in a house across the road.

Chris struggled to calm her down. Eventually, Chris had to slap her to knock some sense into her.

Shock took the place of anger, and then shock made way for tears. It was a little _weird _for Chris to witness an adult cry, especially one such as Rebecca Simmons'. But, considering the circumstances, she had every right to shed tears.

"That…was terrible. He…he was chasing all around these…dead bodies. Dead children. And…they started to come alive and…they were grabbing at my ankles..."

"You're alright, Miss. You're alive. Best not to linger on the past," Chris commented, grabbing a hand towel from the kitchen and handing it to her.

She wiped her face, and locked eyes with Chris. "I'm so sorry I didn't believe you. I will never doubt you again."

Chris gasped. "Natalie…Where's the phone?"

Ms. Simmons' pointed to the coffee table where the cordless phone was situated. Chris picked it up and dialled Natalie's mobile. Chris' teeth started to chatter, a indication of anxiety. Chris prayed for an answer, but when she never got one, she rang again. And again. Until, finally, on the third try did she get an answer.

"Hello?"

There was no immediate response…

"_Hello? _Natalie? Talk to me, mate," Chris yelled into the mouth piece of the phone.

"Natalie's not here," came a voice that could not be mistaken for some-one else's, not to mention the evil chuckle.

The phone line was cut dead.

_Oh shit…_

"Are you right to drive?" Chris asked Ms. Simmons' still sitting on the couch. She nodded.

Still soaking wet, Ms. Simmons' grabbed her car keys and followed Chris' directions to take her to Natalie's house. Considering that it was 3:51am, there was really no need to drive safely. Traveling 180km per hour, they arrived outside Natalie's small residence in no time. Completely skipping knocking on the front door, Chris continued down the side of the house and stopped outside Natalie's bedroom window.

There was Natalie in her bed; behaving similar to what Ms. Simmons' had earlier this morning.

"_Natalie!_" Chris shrieked, banging her fists in the window.

"I think I saw a broken branch on the front lawn, I'll go get it," Ms. Simmons' said.

Chris continued to try and lure Natalie's attention, but it was no use. Ms. Simmons' returned with a bent and broken 9 iron. Chris snatched it from her, and with all her might, slammed the broken club into the window.

The window shattered into various sized pieces of glasses and with Ms. Simmons' help, Chris climbed through the window. She was expecting Natalie's parents to come running through the door any minute.

While Ms. Simmons' was crawling through the window, Chris had already tried the usual tactics; shaking, yelling, slapping, each with the same result.

"Go get some water!"

Ms. Simmons' scattered out of the room into the kitchen and did as she was told. She returned with two cups filled with water, one in each hand. Before she was capable of tossing the water, Natalie's torso received four slashes simultaneously. Natalie released an ear-piercing scream and her eyes shot open.

Ms. Simmons' instinctively dropped both glasses and ran back outside. She quickly returned with a cordless phone and dialled 9-1-1. Whilst she was calling the ambulance, Chris used Natalie's bed covers as pressure to stop the bleeding.

"Ah, oh God…Chris, I'm…I'm…" Natalie stammered. There was no mistaking that it was all fear in her eyes.

"It's okay, just…calm down…calm down. It's going to be okay. I need you to work with me here and calm down because everything is going to be okay," Chris said, trying to soothe her.

Again, Rebecca Simmons' left the room, but Chris had her hands full. The bed covers she was using was almost soaked with blood and by this time, Chris had started to panic. Ms. Simmons came back with a handful of bathroom towels.

"Here, use these to stop the bleeding."

Chris and Ms. Simmons both applied pressure to Natalie's wounds, each talking to her, trying to get her attention diverted from the pain she was going through. The blood flow had slowed and remarkably, Natalie was almost speaking full sentences. There was a knock on the door, and Ms. Simmons' bolted to answer it. She let out a sigh of relief as she saw the two paramedics standing outside the door.

"Please, quickly follow me," she said and led the way into Natalie's room.

Natalie was out of the house in about three minutes, Ms. Simmons' and Chris closely following. Only when they got outside did Chris witness how much activity there was outside. There was one ambulance, two police cars and about twenty people standing out on the front lawn, having a little snoop. As they were coming out through the front door, two policeman past Chris to _into _the house. As Natalie was being loaded into the ambulance, the Chief of Police approached Chris and Ms. Simmons'.

"Hello, I'm Chief of Police Samuels. I just need to ask you a few questions," he said, retrieving a pen and notepad from his pocket. "How did you come by what happened here?"

Before Chris had the opportunity to answer a policeman came running out of the front door and whispered something into Chief Samuels' ear. The policeman left and the Chief turned to face Chris, his face resembling some-one who'd just seen a ghost.

"You'd better call a lawyer, miss," he commented, Chris confused and worried. "Natalie's parents have been found slaughtered in their bed."

**Greetings people, thankyou very much for reading. I was writing this chapter while I was also watching the AFL Grand Final. A BIG shout out to all those Swans players and supporters, YOU GUYS ROCK! Please R&R. Cheers. **


	6. Fear

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Freddy Krueger or NOES series. I own my own characters so I'd appreciate if you use your imagination and make your own, and not use mine.

Chapter 6

Chris sat in Chief Samuel's office, her head in her hands. In the past forty minutes, Chris and Ms. Simmons had been informed that Natalie's parents had been killed, no- _slaughtered _in their bed, handcuffed and taken to the police station and individually been interviewed. Chris had never felt so alone in her life.

The room she was in was very unwelcoming. Walls were grey, carpet was grey. Heck, even the furniture was a grey metal. There was no window, only two long fluorescent lights that travelled from side of the room to the other. And let's not forget the large mirror that covered majority of the back wall.

The rebel inside of Chris wanted to throw the chair she was sitting on at it and watch the glass shatter, but the sagacious Chris told her not to unless she wanted to pay for the damages. It frustrated her knowing that behind that mirror were two, maybe three police officers just observing her, wondering when she'd crack. But she wasn't like that; she wasn't an egg.

She began to tap her foot impatiently, making it more and more obvious that she was growing irritated. For whatever reason, Chris turned her chair around and sat staring at the mirror.

_I could not be anymore obvious_, she thought.

"When you're ready," she said aloud.

Chief Samuels entered the room carrying a pad of paper and a pen. He threw the items onto the metal desk and turned to leave.

"What's this for?" Chris asked.

"We need you to write your interpretation of what happened," the Chief replied and then left that room.

Chris was thankful that they'd given her something to do. She was wondering how long it would take for her to go insane. She took the pen in her right hand and began to think back when it all started.

_Might make it easier for them to understand._

Chief Samuels and two detectives stood behind the mirror, watching Chris frantically write.

"Any word on her parents?" Chief Samuels asked to the detective standing next to him.

At 32 years of age, Detective Sophia Martin had never been assigned to a case this big. Her previous cases were mainly consisted of robberies or the rare murder case, but nothing too difficult for a rookie detective. She saw this case as her ticket out of the shadows and into the spotlight in the precinct. No more being dubbed a "rookie" and getting handed cases that a 14 year old could crack.

"What Ms. Simmons said was correct. Chris' parents are currently holidaying in California and are due to return tomorrow. I have tried to contact them, but so far I haven't been able to," she responded.

"Keep trying to contact them," the Chief ordered and Sophia left the room.

The other detective, Detective Carlos Sanchez was rather reluctant to take this case, which was thought as bizarre. Last year, he and his partner, Detective Julie Barlow had been approached with the case of a lifetime. A rich family had been found murdered in their million dollar home, the wife and daughters found raped. Sanchez and Barlow had dug too deep to find the person or people responsible and consequently caused Julie to lose her life. Instead of leaving the precinct, Sanchez wanted to continue his work serving justice, but turning down any murder case he had been approached with.

This case had intrigued him. Two females, one adult and one teenager, had been accused of slaughtering two parents and then attempted to murder, their daughter. Something just didn't seem right. He wasn't going to sympathise them, especially the teenager. He knew that teenagers are very well capable of committing murder.

"I looked at Chris' history. She hasn't spent any time in juvi, nor has she ever committed a crime. There is no history of mental illness within her family, although her Auntie had committed suicide three years ago," Sanchez reported.

"Ask the neighbours and friends about the family. See how they handled it," the Chief responded.

"Yes sir."

Chief Samuels returned to watching Chris write. He didn't understand how a teenage girl could have a stomach for that. Although he knew that what he was thinking was extremely sexist, he couldn't bring himself to believing what he had come to witness. There was blood splattered on every wall and roof, almost dripping off it. He sighed, and went to get a cup of coffee from the machine.

Chris thought she was going to run out of paper, there was just so much to explain. She knew that there was a high chance of this being cast away as the atypical writings of a psychotic teenager. But there is always that chance that it won't.

Having very little sleep, Chris began to find it difficult to remember what happened next. She yawned and rubbed her eyes.

"Can I please get a cup of coffee?" she asked a loud.

After waiting several minutes for the door to open, she rested her head a top of the cold, metal table. She understood what would happen if she fell asleep, but _without_ sleep; it was killing her. Besides, she is in police station with men and women of the force watching her every move behind the big mirror. They'd jump the bullet if they saw anything out of the ordinary.

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There was a slight breeze and Chris began to get goose bumps. She refused to open her eyes. At a time like this, sleep was a too good opportunity to pass up. The wind began to grow stronger and she thought it was whistling her name.

Without opening her eyes, she yelled, "Go away!" She didn't expect a response.

She got one.

"We meet again…_Chris_," Freddy hissed her name. Chris jumped up instantly, but Freddy was nowhere to be found. She noticed a large branch on the ground and slowly walked toward it and picked it up. She received some comfort knowing that she had a weapon.

"You're too chicken shit to show yourself," she yelled.

"On the contrary," his voice came, "what good would it be to kill you know if you didn't know it?"

"You can't kill me," Chris spat.

She heard him chuckle. She searched to see the too familiar burnt face and the Christmas sweater.

Unexpectedly, she felt something pierce her back. A blade; or perhaps five.

Chris screamed her loudest as Freddy grabbed her waist from behind and licked her ear and whispered, "Can't I?" He removed his blades and released Chris. She fell onto her knees and eventually was on all fours. She couldn't find the strength to remain like she was and fell onto her left side. Freddy kicked her onto her back. Chris splattered blood onto her face and looked directly at Freddy.

He chuckled and licked the blood that remained on his blades. He rushed forward until his face was less than an inch away from hers. The stench he gave off caused almost caused Chris to vomit.

"Sssh," he said, putting his index blade on Chris' cheek. Chris spat blood into his eye which caused him to jolt and carelessly cut Chris' cheek.

Expecting Freddy to respond in a rage of anger, but he didn't. He just laughed.

"Defiant till the end, aren't you? Just like me. But let's see how rebellious you remain…"he stepped to his side, revealing a large mirror, floating in mid-air. Chris grew tense when she saw Natalie appear in the mirror. She was obviously in a hospital, sleeping. Freddy looked at Chris and then turned his attention to the unsuspecting Natalie, calmly sleeping.

"Natalie…" Freddy whispered and slowly, Natalie awoke. She blinked a few times and then looked straight at the mirror. Seeing her response, Freddy unleashed a chilling, evil laugh. From what Chris could see, Natalie was already freaking out and rapidly pressing the 'help' button. Freddy extended his index blade and slowly drew it downwards, like he was cutting something. And he was. Simultaneously, Natalie released a squeal of pain as she felt her left cheek being sliced. Freddy then did the same to Natalie's right cheek.

Chris felt so guilty. However, she couldn't do much. It was a wonder that she hadn't seen the bright light at the end of the tunnel yet.

Instinctively, Natalie brought up her arms to hopefully stop the flow of blood. This was all Freddy needed. His blade moved from right to left, Natalie's left wrist receiving the cut. Chris assumed that Freddy wanted to do the same with the right wrist. Probably could've had it not been for the nurse to enter the room. Freddy glared at the sight of the nurse. Whatever Natalie was looking and screaming at, the nurse couldn't see.

The mirror went blank and fell to the ground, glass shattering every-where. Freddy returned to face Chris.

"It should be some comfort to know that she'll die…slow."

Chris released a single tear. She wanted scream her heart out; she just didn't have the energy.

"Why…why me? Why'd you pick me, _dumb shit?!_" Chris yelled as loud as she could. All this anger was burning up inside of her; she had to release some of it.

"Does it look like I'm one for motives?" he replied.

"But…there has to be a reason why you picked me. What was that reason?" she coughed up more blood. She started to feel dizzy.

He revealed his brown teeth with his wicked smile. "You are the best energy source there is," he said pulled up his green and red sweater to reveal a horrifying sight of tiny faces of children, calling and wailing for some-one to help on his burnt body. Chris puked on herself.

"The children keep me going, but what's even better than killing innocent brats is killing teenagers who are still _afraid_. Still afraid of the dark, ghosts, horror movies, spiders!" he chuckled. "I'm feeding off your fear."

Chris shut her eyes tight.

_When was this going to end?! I need this to end right now! NOW!_

She could hear Freddy slowly coming closer to her. She forced herself to open her eyes, and there he was, towering over her like how a skyscraper towers over an ant. She was that ant.

Freddy picked Chris up easily by her neck and held her high above him. Chris tried to remove his hand from her fragile neck, but his grip was too strong. She looked right into his devil eyes.

"Your nightmare has only just begun," he called, raising his steel claw.

As a last minute resort, Chris kicked him where it hurts. Hard. And it worked. His released his grip on her neck and Chris fell onto the shattered mirror pieces. Overcoming the pain, she grabbed the largest piece within reach and jabbed it into Freddy's foot. And then into his knee. This brought him down on his knees and Chris kicked him hard in the chest.

_Serves you right…bitch. _She thought.

"THIS IS A DREAM! A FUCKING DREAM!" She screamed and slammed the glass piece into her left thigh.

Ms. Simmons awoke with a start. She was covered in sweat, but no blood, as far as she could tell. She got up from the chair, not bothering to stretch as her back was killing her, and started banging on the wall.

"Please! Some-one help! Please!"

She got an instant response and, much to her surprise, was picked up by the waist and put back on her chair.

"Miss, calm down. Now, wait seems to be the problem?" the detective asked.

"I need for you to run down and check on the girl I came in with. Chris Matherson," Ms. Simmons pleaded.

"I'm sorry, I don't have authorization to see her," he responded.

"Well, get authorization! I just need for you to see if she is okay!"

The detective was about to say something else, however was cut short when Ms. Simmons bolted out the opened door. She had no idea where she was going, she just followed her impulses.

Reaching out to a doorknob, she was crash tackled to the door. She felt something in her wrist snap, and let out an ear-piercing squeal of pain.

She struggled against the grip of the detective leading her away. Chief Samuels exited the room Ms. Simmons tried to get into.

"Chief, please! How is Chris? Is she okay?"

The Chief looked puzzled. "She is…fine."

Rebecca Simmons was not satisfied. She fought off her captors, barged past Chief Samuels knocking him off his feet and ran into the room she originally was trying to get into and locked the door.

She felt relief rush to everywhere within her body when saw Chris lying asleep, with no sign of injury.

Spotting a microphone, she pressed the button closest to it and spoke into the mic.

"Chris, its Ms. Simmons here," she said, watching and waiting for Chris to wake.

"Ms. Simmons?" she asked groggily.

"Yeah, it's me. I just needed to see if you were okay. You sleep well?"

Chris smiled. "I sure did."

**Greetings all. Thankyou for reading my latest chapter. Apologies if I had taken a while to update. Please R&R. Cheers **


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